


Hold Me Close

by pechekeen



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: M/M, now with a side of mild core hand porn, soft core neck porn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-04-22 04:45:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14301102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pechekeen/pseuds/pechekeen
Summary: Just a collection of body parts and how fascinating they are





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timothée’s neck? Yeah, Timothée’s neck.

There was always this blissful, fiery crackle that filled him whenever their lips met. One pair melded into the other as they licked into each other's mouths with the need to taste more and more. He had Timothée on his back with the other's space all crowded by the hovering figure of his own. A groan slipped from him when he felt teeth pull at his lower lip, and the younger man swallowed the sound up with an eager push back into the kiss. Armie had the hem of Timothée's shirt already rucked up so he could smooth his palm over the soft planes of the brunet's abdomen. He went up to the chest, skittering his fingers past the nipple, and then withdrew it from under the clothing. Normally he'd card his hand through the other's wild curls, but this time it seemed like his hand had it's own agenda.

And, well, they'd been a mess the second he had let his hand wander freely. The sound Timothée made once his hand was wrapped around the other’s neck was  _devastating_. It pitched, it rolled, it went straight to his goddamn  _cock_. The way Timothée’s throat moved when the brunet swallowed thickly almost made him tighten his grip. He didn’t, though, not yet at least. He was still too absorbed with the image of his fingers-  _his own fingers-_  wrapped around the pale column he had been haunted by ever since he had laid eyes on the younger man. Soft, exposed, a point of vulnerability now sat in the midst of his grasp; that had him inch higher and higher on a power trip he had always imagined would stay in the confines of his mind. 

Another low noise was breathed out when his fingers dug into the tender flesh a little harder. It started in the other’s chest, resonated up the neck and out of those parted lips that were still split slick and bitten red. The sight was entrancing, really, and he was practically fucked once his gaze trailed up from Timothée’s lips to his eyes. The pupils were already blown wide; blacks swallowing the usual green hazel irises save for a sliver of color. Then, there was movement. He saw the corners of Timothée’s lips quirk up in the faintest fashion. 

It was approval, encouragement and a  _dare_  all wrapped in one single smile, and he was more than happy to oblige and indulge.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jesums. ever get really into some soft core neck porn to get you back into the swing of things? yeah i saw that gifset of timmy messing with his neck and this just happened haha, but sometimes it's just like that and i hope you all enjoy!
> 
> if you have any suggestions of what to write next tell me in a comment or [over on my Tumblr! ](http://peche-keen.tumblr.com/)


	2. Fingers Crossed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hands? Hands. Specifically, Armie's hands

He, for a lack of a better word, had a small obsession with hands. There was just something so aesthetically pleasing to watch as they were used to grasp, pick things up, or be completely still. Timothée knew his own were okay, passing at best, but when he saw _Armie's_ he couldn't take his eyes off of them. Then again, he was attracted the man from the tips of his hair down to the bottom of his feet, but that was besides the point (sort of).

His eyes always seemed to trail down to catch a glimpse or two of the older man's hands. The way they would wrap around the arm of a chair to aide him to scoot towards a table. How wildly animated they were when he talked with them (which was a slight hazard by themselves). Don't get him wrong- there were _a lot_ of other things to be the source of his fantasizes, but that man's hands took the fucking cake by far.

Timothée constantly wondered what it'd feel like to feel the blond's hand cup his cheek with a softness that could match the tender blues that always caught his own vibrant greens. Then, if he let his mind wander lower, how would it feel to have those long fingers trace from the corner of his jaw down to the hollow of his throat. How would it feel to have the pad of Armie's thumb _press in_ , just enough to silently tell him to _stay still_? He could imagine how easy it would be to have both of his wrists captured in the man's hold with just one hand; how easy it would be to pin his arm above his head or behind his back.

Trail a bit lower just to watch the tanned hand feel down the hard planes of his collarbones and chest before going towards the softer expanse of his abdomen. How would it feel to have Armie palm him with a single hand when he was already fully hard? Would he be held still with his own hands high above his head while he was given the barest fraction of pleasure by the heel of the other man's palm? Or would Armie show him some mercy and wrap around his flushed cock? He could only imagine how he would look in the other's hand; his typical pale complexion mottled with a warm red from how turned on he'd be in mild contrast to the sun kissed exterior of Armie's skin.

What if Armie gripped him by the waist with both hands? Surely, they'd be able to touch from middle finger to middle finger as the man's thumbs dug into the tender flesh of his inner hips. He'd be encompassed in a single span of both hands for whatever reason; most of which he hoped- _prayed_ would be for heated intentions.

Just how in the world would it feel to have his ass spread with one hand on each cheek? Would he feel slight pain from how hard Armie would grab? Maybe it would be a crackling, stinging sensation that would land on his skin and travel directly towards his cock? Then again, maybe he would be handled with a gentler touch. Maybe he'd be exposed and presented with a sense of soft urgency and encouragement.

It's so mind-meltingly _easy_ to imagine Armie's hands do anything from caressing and holding him to pinning him and controlling him. It made his blood rush and his eyes darken as he thought, and thought and _thought_ about the phantom hands that could be on him. It made him yearn to be touched by the flat of Armie's hands and to feel something deeper than that; as if the man's hands were a portal that linked their bodies together as they touched and traced.

He wanted to hold them and intertwine their fingers together. He wanted to kiss them with his lips and worship them with the curl of his tongue. He wanted those hands glued to his body and in the thick of his hair.

He, for a lack of a better word, was obsessed with Armie's hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so.. it's been a while since i've touched on this sort of subject, but the cmbyn 10 minute challenge had me thinking... why don't i just make this into a series? i already something about timmy's neck and now here's a little something about armie's hands.
> 
> if you have any suggestions of what to write next tell me in a comment or [over on my Tumblr! ](http://peche-keen.tumblr.com/)


End file.
